


Shelter From the Storm

by DeathclawQunari



Series: Audrey and Deacon [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23990998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathclawQunari/pseuds/DeathclawQunari
Summary: While exploring the Glowing Sea, Audrey finds something that reminds her of her life before and Deacon is an impromptu therapist. CONTENT WARNING: this work deals with a PTSD-related panic attack.
Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Audrey and Deacon [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722532
Kudos: 21





	Shelter From the Storm

January 10, 2288

They stood at the edge of the Glowing Sea, taking one last pit stop before heading into the green abyss. Audrey pulled up the map interface on the display of her T-45 helmet as Deacon kept a look out. She felt like going back in time and throttling herself. She had made sure to map important landmarks the first time they had gone through the Sea, but in the haze of radiation poisoning she hadn’t been very descriptive; several tiny triangles bore the name ‘Cave’ and nothing else. “What are we looking for again?”

“O’Malley Manufacturing, or something like that. It was Irish-sounding, anyway.” 

“Ugh. I don’t have it on here. Not that I would have remembered to give it an actual label anyway.” 

“And what did we learn today kids? You need more protection than a gas mask when you go into the most irradiated place on this side of hell.”

Audrey reached over and gave his bulky shoulder a shove. “Not helping.” She sighed. “Looks like we get to do this the hard way.” She started down the road, Deacon close behind. The ground trembled with each step they took. She would much rather have a hazmat suit than the walking tank, but Tom hadn’t figured out how to fit one with ballistic weave yet and rad protection didn’t stop scorp stingers or Deathclaw teeth.

They gave Vault 95 a wide berth. She knew she’d have to come back and deal with them eventually but for now their main focus was getting the Relay up and functional. On the horizon, a dark form started taking shape through the fog. She crouched, the metal armor groaning; stealth was useless in power armor, but it helped to mask their silhouette. 

Deacon came up beside her, rifle drawn. He looked down the scope, then spoke through his helmet’s radio. “It’s a church, but it’s mostly sunk. Wanna check it out?” 

“Might as well, so I can at least mark it.” They creeped close enough to peer through the busted roof. Feral ghouls wandered aimlessly in the destroyed sanctuary, some climbing on the pews while others shuffled up and down the center aisle. One in particular stood at the pulpit, softly swatting the empty bookrest. 

“You can’t help but to pity them sometimes,” Deacon whispered. “I wonder how much they actually remember.”

Audrey brought up the map again and marked the church’s location and softly gasped. “It’s Hopesmarch.”

“What?”

“Hopesmarch. Hopesmarch Pentecostal. Nate and I got married here. Oh my god.” She rocked back, unsteady. She could feel her blood pressure rising and she was suddenly all too aware of how cramped the armor was. “We have to go. We have to go now.” 

“On it boss. I’ll take point. Just hang in there Auds.” He started southwest, his head on a swivel. “Looks like there’s a Super Duper Mart over here. Less than 70 yards.”

It turned out to be a parking garage, the safety light still shining over a side door. Once they were inside and the Geiger counters had stopped clicking, she pulled the hydraulic locks and climbed out of the power armor as fast as she could, her chest heaving faster. She fumbled with the buckles on the utility pocket of her bomber jacket as she backed up against the dingy concrete wall, cursing Deacon’s insistence to dress up. 

He parked his armor in front of the door creating a makeshift barricade and helped her get the pocket open. She pulled out a syringe of Calmex and jabbed it into her thigh. She could feel the warmth of the drug spread through her leg and up her torso. She eased down the wall until she sat with her knees pressed into her chest, her breath coming less shallow now. Her mind grew fuzzy, her thoughts leaving almost as soon as they were there. She looked up at Deacon, his face stern but worried. “Thank you.”

“Better?” 

She nodded. He didn’t usually approve of chem use, but after their incident in South Boston they agreed it was better than a panic attack getting them both killed. “Thank you.”

“You said that, boss. You’re welcome.” He squatted down next to her and put two fingers on the side of her throat. 

“You’re touching me.” Her tongue darted from between her lips as she smirked.

His face stayed neutral, but his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m checking your pulse.”

“I like it when you touch me.” Her smirk slowly spread into a grin. 

He shook his head. “You’re not gonna remember this conversation in about half an hour.” He sighed. “I’m gonna clear the garage. Stay put.” He pulled Audrey’s pistol out of her side holster ignoring her giggles and slunk past the shipping crate and crashed Corvega. The corpse of a feral laid half under the rusted chassis. He pulled the hammer back on the pistol. A makeshift campsite had been set up in a far corner; he counted six sleeping bags altogether. He passed another corpse. Maybe he would get lucky and there wouldn’t be any live ones. He crept past a support column and found one hunkered over, feeding on what looked like a recently deceased ghoul. He choked down bile and took aim. The pistol’s retort echoed in the small space, and two more ferals crawled out from under rusted cars as the first one fell. He took them down as quickly as he could; they might be monsters now, but they had been human at one point. 

He cleared the lot once more just to be sure, keeping away from the gaping hole in the back floor, and headed back to Audrey. She still sat against the wall, but she had straightened out her legs and was now gently tapping the toes of her boots together. She still had the smirk, and she beckoned him over with one finger. It was just the drugs and he knew it, but it made his stomach flop just the same. 

He sat down next to her an arm’s length away. She leaned over clumsily, closing the distance. Her lips brushed against his ear, sending goosebumps down his neck. 

“There’s a deathclaw on the level below us,” she whispered.

The goosebumps turned cold. “How do you know that?”

“You woke him up when you fired the gun. I can See him. I think he’s angry.” She planted a breathy kiss on his cheek. “You need to shave. You’re all stubbly.”

He pushed her back up. “Audrey are you sure there’s a deathclaw down there?”

She nodded, giggling. “He’s a bigg’in, too.”

He let out a deep breath and grabbed his rifle. He crossed the parking garage as quickly as he could crouched. He peered over the edge – nothing. He doubled back and stepped inside the broken bus. Half of it already lay on the next floor down. He eased down toward the mangled steel, one step at a time. He thought for half a second she had just hallucinated it when his foot bumped a tin can, sending it clanging down the bus. It bounced off part of the fallen floor and splashed in the stagnant water below. A pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared, not even two yards away from him. 

The deathclaw roared, covering deacon with rancid saliva. He pulled up his rifle and fired, not bothering with the scope. The bullet found its mark, but the monster was hardly bothered. Deacon backed up as quick as he could, chambering another round. Another shot, this time in the skull. The deathclaw recoiled. As it regained its posture, it scooped up a massive chunk of concrete and rebar. Deacon stepped into the doorway of the bus as the debris flew through the air where he had been. It hit the front of the bus, dislodging it. He lurched forward and grabbed the railing. The deathclaw climbed up the fallen floor piece and reached for him. The razor sharp claws tore through the rotten seats and lodged into the steel wall. 

The bus gave another lunge, and this time Deacon jumped backwards onto the garage floor. The whole thing slid off the ledge and hit the water with a massive splash. Deacon waited, expecting the deathclaw to come back at any moment. He eased toward the edge and looked. It had gotten trapped beneath the bus, and with its claws stuck in the steel at such an odd angle the impact had shattered its spine. Deacon lay flat on the ground, sighing in relief. 

After the adrenaline rush, he went back to check on Audrey. She was sitting up on her own now, coming down from her high. She smiled when he came into view. The flirty smirk was gone, and in its place was a tired, pained look. “I’m sorry.”

“Ah, you don’t have to apologize Auds. We’re good.” He sat next to her again, closer this time. She laid her head on his shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” she said. “I think it’s wearing off. I can think again, but I don’t feel like I did before. I think,” she started, mulling over her words. “I think I had the Sight there for a minute. It was all so fast, but it was there. It was almost like an out of body experience for a moment. I saw the deathclaw wake up, and then he was dead and you were okay.” She sat up, searching his face. “You are okay, right?” 

“I might be returning this jumpsuit with a couple brown streaks in it, but I’m good. It didn’t get me at all.” She laid back down on him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to take a liking to this stuff though.”

Audrey shook her head. “No. I can’t afford to. Not with so much at stake right now.” She sighed. “I need to just get over everything. I can’t afford to keep melting down like that either.”

Deacon eased up just enough to slide his out from underneath her and wrapped it around her shoulders. “What you’ve been through, you can’t just get over. It doesn’t work that way.” 

“I wish it did,” she said quietly. They were silent, each lost in their own thoughts. “That church was where we got married. That was one of the happiest times in my entire life. After he was drafted…” She let out a long, shuddered breath.

“Audrey if you don’t want to talk about this –“

She shook her head. “I need to.” She sniffled. “I lost Nate long before Kellogg got to him. The man I went into the Vault with may have been my husband, but he wasn’t my Nate. I never really let myself mourn because he was still alive, at least on the outside.

“He was studying to be a professor when they took him. They were running out of men to send to Anchorage, they just wanted warm bodies at that point. I spent his entire tour waiting for the officers at my door telling me he had fallen in combat but they never came. There were a lot of days after he came back I wished they had.” A hot tear rolled down her cheek, but she continued. “The war changed him. He lost his passion for life. He was always so angry all the time. When we found out about Shaun, things got better, but he still wasn’t the same.” She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “But I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it? The war got everyone in the end.” 

Finally the dam broke. She buried her face into the side of his chest and cried. Deacon held her close and stroked her hair as her tears soaked his shirt. Finally the sobs subsided, and they sat silent, curled together until she spoke again.

“You’re the only one I talk to about him, you know. People know I’m a widow, that’s no secret. But everything else… I almost told Danse, believe it or not. He reminds me so much of him after he came back, only less angry.”

Deacon felt a pang of jealousy, followed by panic and guilt. He had no right to be jealous over her, and they had no room for that between them.

“But Danse isn’t Nate, and it’s not fair to project that onto him. I couldn’t love Danse if I wanted to. He’s a good man, and he stands by his beliefs, but he’s too… Brotherhood.” She turned to look at him. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. Maybe it’s because no one believes a word of what you say, so it doesn’t matter if you tell anyone or not. Maybe it’s because I don’t have to be someone else for you, no General, no Knight, just me.” A sly grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe it’s because I’ve got your recall code so if this comes back to bite me in the ass, I’ll just wipe your memory.”

“Boss, that recall code –“ 

“I don’t trust everyone. I trust you.”


End file.
